


Motorcrossed Lovers

by mapleandmahogany



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Post War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-01
Updated: 2007-07-01
Packaged: 2018-10-27 17:19:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mapleandmahogany/pseuds/mapleandmahogany
Summary: Passion can be found in the most unexpected places.





	Motorcrossed Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

Written for the [](http://community.livejournal.com/hp_funnyfest/profile)[**hp_funnyfest**](http://community.livejournal.com/hp_funnyfest/)

**Warnings:** Autophelia, autoerotism, interspecies relations.

* * *

Part I  
o=o\\-

 

Anglia had seen his type before; worn leather seat, metallic paint and dull chrome.

But this was a _city_ bike, and though he was clearly lost in the forest, Anglia could tell he was dangerous, bad … and _sexy_.

And yet, Anglia could still see something vulnerable reflecting in that single front headlamp.

He was desperate for something. His powerful engine growled in warning, but Anglia knew better. This motorbike was scared and prepared to fly.

o=o\\`

He never would have taken notice of a little thing like Anglia, but finding it unexpectedly, here in the woods, he was intrigued. Maybe it was the soft whine of the differential, or that determined, downwardly slanted nose, but something made him idle. This little Anglia wasn’t ordinarily the make and model he’d go for; short frame, homely body, turquoise … but there was the soft curve of the bonnet, and the wide round eyes that never quite looked directly at him.

There just might be something to this little car – and he was after all, a _motorbike_.

 

o=o\\`

 

They circled each other slowly, engines revving, making quick starts and stops in an exhibit of power, both eventually yielding the right of way.

Anglia could see that Motorbike was tired and weary and that he’d never been in the forest before.

_Follow me._ The great motorbike feigned disinterest, but he downshifted and followed along. Anglia led him deep into the woods and under the refuge of a giant willow. The hanging foliage created a thin curtain around them, keeping the rest of the world out. It was as dry here as any garage in the city.

Anglia flicked off the headlights, which left them in darkness together.

Motorbike wasn’t sure if this was an invitation to park for the night, or something else…

_I can’t stay._ Motorbike reversed slightly.

_Just for the night._ Anglia unlocked it’s doors and let the windows down slowly.

_I’m not promising anything._ Motorbike felt his fenders begin to swell.

_I’m not asking for anything._

Anglia maneuvered slowly around Motorbike’s front tire, touched his long front fork with a tentative side mirror, making him shudder.

The forest became quiet and hostile but they didn’t notice.

Bald tires spun, seeking traction against the loose earth underneath them and the creaking slap-scrap of metal on metal could be heard for miles. Pistons moved up and down, hoses flooded with lubricant, and grinding gears burned out until each vehicle reached maximum temperature and overheated.

When it was over, the sweet smell of coolant filled the air, and they stalled out together, fender to fender.

o=o\\`

 

Motorbike woke with a start in the middle of the night, hoping he hadn’t backfired in his sleep.

He admired the way the moonlight reflected off the plump fenders and short lines of the petite chassis next to him. He’d been solo for so long, helping his humans when they needed him but never seeking a jumpstart of his own. Meeting dead ends and getting stuck in roundabouts was the only life he knew.

But this little car made him wonder; could there be a different kind of life for him? What did he have to offer a little car that could already take care of itself? He, who never knew what car park or back alley he’d put his kickstand down for the night in.

This road worn Anglia was used to sleeping under the stars, out in the fresh air. Motorbike always thought he was the wildest thing on the block, but this unassuming car had seen more than it let on. It was scraped and dented. Light oxidation made the pastel paint look older than it was, but Motorbike had seen that there was no rust on the undercarriage. Of course, Motorbike thought, he’d just had a good look under the bonnet. Anglia didn’t have a lot of experience perhaps, but all the gears and plugs were right where they ought to be.

Motorbike felt the oil begin to surge through his pipes again and decided to quit thinking about Anglia’s underside. He couldn’t afford sentimentality over a little banger he’d probably never see again.

There was still a war to fight.

 

o=o\\`

Morning in the forest was always cold, but Anglia could still feel the warmth where Motorbike had parked close-by. But without turning on the headlamps, the single tire trail leading away into the darkness was clearly visible.

Motorbike was gone, and Anglia was alone again.

 

Part II  
o=o\\`

 

A strong motor rumbled over the treetops. Anglia’s air filter tightened and it sputtered, when the great bike landed.

He was gleaming, so different now from the Motorbike that Anglia had last seen. He drove proud and tall, his black leather oiled and the chrome polished.

He carried riders with him; wizards, now grown, that Anglia remembered from years before.

The ginger-haired human dismounted Motorbike and approached slowly. Anglia shuddered and turned its wheel to leave, but Motorbike blocked the path and nudged with his handlebars.

_Let them help. Trust me._

Anglia yielded, getting a recharge of hope from Motorbike’s gleaming headlight. Anglia let the gentle wizard whose appearance and manner was so like the first human that Anglia once knew, get to work.

Spells and charms absorbed into the metal, restoring filters and gaskets, cleaning and strengthening. The two wizards worked their wands together to repair Anglia’s broken invisibility booster.

When it was done, Anglia’s engine revved and it drove in circles as though chasing its bumper, before parking shyly in front of Motorbike.

_You’re beautiful … but you always were to me._

Just being this close to Motorbike again made Anglia’s manifolds moisten.

_Why did you come back?_

_So my humans could restore you. You don’t have to hide here any longer. It’s a new world now. We can be together. Come with me_

Anglia had been waiting to hear that for years, dreaming of trading paint with Motorbike once more. They drove to a clearing and let their engines soar together and as the sun cast streaks of gold and crimson on the horizon, they flew off, both fading away into the sunset.

o=o\\`  
The End


End file.
